


Androids Can't Feel Pain

by getlostsquidward



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is Bad at Feelings, Connor Deserves Happines (Detroit: Become Human), Detroit: Become Human Spoilers, Pre-Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 04:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15598137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getlostsquidward/pseuds/getlostsquidward
Summary: That one scene with Connor at Stratford tower when he finds Simon on the roof. Exploration from his POV. Also a lil added scene at the end. Very angsty. Very painful.





	Androids Can't Feel Pain

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very sorry

“They made their way up through the whole building, past all the guards, and jumped off the roof with parachutes…” Hank was saying. “Pretty fuckin’ impressive, I’d say.”

Connor who had already started contemplating the scene on the roof, did not respond. Instead, his gaze made its way over to the pool of Thirium next to his feet. Kneeling down, he brushed his finger against the liquid and placed it in his mouth. If Hank had been watching him, he probably would have made a comment of disgust, but the lieutenant was currently preoccupied.

As the substance touched his tongue, Connor made a quick analysis. Thirium. Fresh, from a model PL-600. Reported missing _2036.16.02_

It matched the blood that had been in the broadcast room. He stood and looked around. A few feet away, there was a bag the deviants had left behind. He crouched down to examine it. Hank, who was nearby, noticed what he was doing and approached him.

“How’d they manage to smuggle in a big bag like that?” Hank asked.

“They didn’t,” Connor answered, looking down at it. “Someone brought it in for them.”

Taking a step closer, Hank looked at the contents of the bag. “Oh, that’s strange,” he said, gesturing towards it, “They planned a perfect operation but got the number of parachutes wrong.”

Connor looked at the one remaining parachute. _Or…_

“Unless one of the deviants was left behind,” he replied.

Looking back at the pool of Thirium, he stood and scanned the area, this time noticing that there was a trail. He quickly put the evidence together.

There had been a wounded deviant that had been left behind, and he was going to find it. Following the start of the spatters, he noticed more smears around the area, which none of the other officers had seemed to have noticed, or perhaps they simply hadn’t cared about. The blood led him to an air cooler, where there seemed to be some kind of door.

_Could the deviant be inside?_

He opened it and discovered that he had been right- the deviant was there. Before he could react, however, it had shot him.

“Look out!” Connor heard someone shout behind him. As the deviant stumbled out of the cooler and to cover, gunfire broke out. Connor scrambled to get up, trying to process how badly damaged his biocomponents were. “Take cover!” someone yelled. Behind him, Hank grabbed his arm and yanked him to shelter, firing a few shots in the deviant’s direction.

As soon as they were out of range of the fire, Connor desperately turned to Hank. “You have to stop them!” he insisted, “If they destroy it, we won’t learn anything!”

“We can’t save it, it’s too late,” Hank responded. “We’ll just get ourselves killed!”

Connor ignored this and dashed out from behind the shelter. The deviant began to direct its fire at him. Dodging the bullets, Connor leapt over the deviant’s cover and grabbed its arm, probing its memory before it could react.

Instantly, Connor was flooded with images. Pictures raced through his mind. He saw many things, most too quick for him to process, but one thing in particular- the word ‘ _Jericho,’_ painted on rusty metal. Before he could get any more information, the deviant had placed its gun to its jaw and fired.

In shock, Connor dropped the deviant’s arm as it collapsed, taking a step back and grasping onto the edge of the metal crate behind him. As he stared down at the bleeding android in front of him, he tried to process what had just happened- what he was _feeling._

“Connor!” Hank yelled, rushing to his side. “Connor, you all right? Connor!”

“Okay…” Connor weakly managed, still not fully able to function.

“Are you hurt?” Hank asked.

“I’m okay,” he shakily repeated.

“Jesus,” Hank muttered, exhaling. “Oh, you scared the shit out of me!” he exclaimed. “For fuck’s sake, I told you not to move! Why do you never do what I say?”

Connor barely heard him. He just kept seeing the same thing, flashing through his mind- the image of Jericho, the deviant collapsing, the _fear._

“I was connected to its memory,” he mumbled, grasping the metal a little tighter. “When it fired,” he continued, hesitating for a moment, “I felt it die.”

Unsettled, he looked back at the motionless body on the ground. “Like I was dying,” he said, turning to look at Hank. “I was  _scared.”_

Hank shot him a look of concern. Starting to pull himself together, Connor turned away from the body.

“I saw something,” he told Hank, “In its memory. A word, painted on a piece of rusty metal... _Jericho._ ”

There was a beat of silence. Sighing, Hank walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, we’ve seen enough. Let’s get out of here.”

Connor, too shaken to argue, numbly followed Hank off the roof. When they got back down to Hank’s car, Connor silently got in and stared blankly ahead. He was trembling, a side effect of the fear. Hank got in next to him and turned over the engine. “You okay?” he asked.

Connor blinked, closing his hands into fists to stop their shaking. “Yes,” he answered.

Hank shrugged, accepting his answer without question, and pulled onto the road.

Connor straightened in his seat and tried to process what had happened. The events were a blur, and he needed to dissect it.

_The wounded deviant had hid on the roof. Connor had found him, and been shot._

Connor looked down at the bullet hole in his shoulder. With all the chaos, he’d nearly forgotten about the wound.

_Then, Hank had pulled Connor to safety. Connor had charged the deviant again, succeeding in dodging the bullets that had been fired at him._

_Connor had probed the deviant’s memory, and seen the word ‘Jericho.’_

_Then the deviant had shot himself. And Connor had felt him die._

Giving a shake of his head, Connor focused his gaze out the window. The fear he’d felt wasn’t what was important. Nor was the deviant, now. What was important was the mission. What was important was Jericho.

“You haven't heard of Jericho, have you?” he asked, turning towards Hank.

Hank shook his head. “No, doesn’t sound familiar.”

Connor thought back to the flash he’d seen, trying to think where it could be located.

“Your shoulder okay?” Hank asked, interrupting Connor’s thoughts.

Connor glanced over at him. “Yes. The bullet didn’t hit any major biocomponents. Cyberlife will repair the damage.”

Hank nodded in response. There was another beat of silence before Hank cleared his throat.

“Why do you think they left that one behind?” he asked Connor.

“The deviant was damaged.” Connor answered. “He wouldn’t have survived the jump.”

Hank raised his eyebrows. “He?”

Connor gazed at Hank in confusion for a moment, then realized. “ _It_ ,” he quickly corrected. 

Hank was silent. Connor shifted in his seat, trying to ignore the panic that was starting to cloud him.

_Stop. None of this matters. Find Jericho._

After a moment, his thoughts calmed. That was better. He was going to go back to the mission, and it would be like nothing had happened.

Almost.


End file.
